


Indian Summer

by 2inchlich



Category: Original Work
Genre: 1900s, 1910s, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, F/M, G/T, Giants, Historical, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, Multi, Old Gods, Size Difference, Violence, giant tiny - Freeform, romeo and juliet but with some crazy shit thrown in for spice, size shifters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2019-12-07 16:07:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18237179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2inchlich/pseuds/2inchlich
Summary: (the current title is a working title)In the summer of 1919 Myrtle Pond finds herself thrust into a world, and a relationship, she never would have thought could have existed.





	1. Summer 1919

The summer of 1919 had been an eventful one so far for Myrtle Pond, and was only getting more eventful as it wore on. She’d gone to New York City for a weekend with her friends, she’d tried driving her father’s new automobile (and nearly crashed it into a ravine), and now she was being chased through the countryside by a man easily 20 times her height, maybe more.

 Myrtle’s bleeding bare feet pounded against the rocky soil as she staggered through the corn field. Despite the stalks rising above her head, she felt so painfully visible. She was at the very least unprotected from the beast chasing her. Hiding would do her no good if she had nothing above her to protect her from the footfalls of this monster. The woods were just beyond the field though. If she could make it there then she could at least tall him while looking for a suitable hiding place.

 As she reached the edge of the field her dress snagged on a large, pointed rock jutting up from the soft dirt. She tumbled face first, hearing a sickening snap from her ankle. It took a moment to feel the pain set in, and she actually saw the blood and the odd angle her foot was twisted at before she felt a surge of sharp pain strike her ankle. She cried out, stifling it and the following sob about halfway through by shoving her hands over her mouth. She had never broken a bone before, and had no idea how she had managed to break one now, at what had to literally be the most inopportune time. She didn’t dare look at it for very long, knowing that the fracture had to have compounded for there to be as much blood as there was.

 She dragged herself back into the corn stalks as quickly and as quietly as she could manage, quiet sobs catching in her throat as she heard the giant’s footsteps approaching her quickly. They stopped on either side of her, and as she gazed up through the fog of her tears past the golden stalks above her she could see his towering legs rising like Grecian pillars. He wore his long blond hair in a ponytail. She’d never seen a man with such long hair, at least not in her small rural community. He wore no jacket, but did wear a light, off-white button-up shirt tucked into deep navy blue riding pants with suspenders. His feet were covered by knee-high brown riding boots that dug into the soft earth beside her. He looked like he was dressed for a hunt. The blond figure above her looked around the ground, crouching and running his fingers through the corn to try to find her. She was positioned beneath him, just barely to the right of his right foot. She shuddered, but held both hands firmly over her mouth to suppress any whimpers or sobs which might try to escape her throat.

 After a moment of searching in vain for her, he sighed in frustration and stood back up, walking back in the direction he had come from. Myrtle waited. She waited nearly half an hour before removing her hands from her mouth and letting out the quietest of cries. She weakly tucked her white skirts–now stained with dirt and blood–beneath her and began to try to stand. She was unable to, her broken bone creaking and splintering further as she tried to put weight on it. She collapsed in the dirt just beyond the field, heart pounding in her chest. She was alone save for the birds, the field, and the trees of the nearby woods. The sun had nearly set now, and she was sure that coyotes, wolves, and all other manner of beasts would soon set in on her as she lay prone out in the middle of nowhere.

 She moved slowly on her stomach, using her hands to dig into the dirt and pull herself slowly forward, towards the shelter of the treeline. The woods frightened her, but being out in the open frightened her more. Surely someone would come looking for her soon though. Either tonight or tomorrow. So she needed to stay near the edge of the woods. She needed to stay where they’d find her. She collapsed at the base of a towering cottonwood tree, lying on her back and gazing up through the leaves and out into the twilight sky. It was a hazy violet hue, the stars she could see blurring through her tears and fading vision. Was she dying? Surely not. She wasn’t sure how broken bones worked, but she didn’t think she’d die this soon. Had she lost too much blood? It wasn’t pooling around her, just leaking more than anything.

 Myrtle wasn’t allowed more time to contemplate her situation however, as she heard the rhythmic boom of a giant’s approaching footsteps. She could barely keep her eyes open as she heard the footsteps stop near her. She heard nothing. No crickets, no birds. The only sound was the faint rush of wind around her. Or was it his breathing? She couldn’t be sure. She blinked, trying to clear her eyes of tears and force them to stay open long enough to see what the monster intended to do with her.

 This giant wasn’t the one from before, however. She would have been openly appalled at the knowledge that not one, but two giants roamed the countryside she’d grown up in. This was the certainly the first time in her 19 years of existence on God’s green earth that she’d noticed the cumbersome things. He had somewhat messy bright red hair and one visible icy blue eye. The other was covered with a silk eye patch, that looked more stylish than functional but what position was she in that she could critique a giant’s fashion choices. His face, although handsome, was scarred and worn from years of a range of “heavy” emotions. Anger, sorrow, worry. Myrtle wasn’t sure but she saw at least one of them etched on his face. He regarded her with another emotion she couldn’t quite read in her weakened state. Pity? She wasn’t sure. He was dressed similarly to the other giant, but even more casual: he wore a dark gray cap over his red hair; a high-collared cream button-up shirt that was untucked from his brown riding pants; suspenders that weren’t being used functionally, instead hanging loosely by his hips; a pair of brown, scuffed, knee-high riding boots.

 Myrtle emitted a low whimper as he watched her, aching for him to do something. Help her, kill her, she didn’t care, but the anxiety of him simply looming over her caused her heart to race in her chest. She weakly lifted herself up so that she was half-sitting, but she must have been going into shock because everything felt so numb and it was hard to maintain that position. As she sits, the giant scowls slightly and makes a low noise. It’s between a grunt and a “hmm,” as if he’s questioning not only what she’s doing but what he’s doing.

 She recoils slightly, but can’t manage to move much, as she sees him lower a rough hand to her. His fingers coil tight around her, squeezing her limp body into his palm. She closes her eyes tightly, slumping slightly in his fist. A wave of nausea rocks her as he stands, the sudden change in elevation making her stomach churn violently. She lets out a soft moan as he begins walking.

 “You’ll be fine, stop that,” he says brusquely to her as he carries her through the woods. He stands as tall as most of the trees, making him around if not over 100 feet tall. The absolute scale of him blows her away as she thinks of it. He has the strength to lift her up like a ragdoll, what else would he be capable of? Eating her? Surely that was his intention for her.

 “My ankle,” she says, voice breathy and weak but belying the fear that’s set in as she realizes that her life is literally in his hands.

 “I can see that,” he responds pointedly. He seems so disinterested in her, but surely there’s a reason he’s taking her away from where the other giant had gone? Surely if he wanted to do unspeakable things to her then he’d have done them already?

 She whines softly, trying to hint at the fact that she needs medical attention without rudely demanding it from someone large enough to crush her should he choose to.

 “Really do stop that, dear, it’s aggravating and I will snap you in half like a twig if you continue.”

 Myrtle immediately fell silent, quivering slightly in his grasp. The giant falls silent too, but the tension between them makes it feel as if there’s words he’s intentionally leaving unspoken. As he walks, Myrtle begins to feel more an more pain in her leg, but a distinct numbness in her foot. She considers speaking up, but decides against it recalling his threat.

 Right as she considers it though, he stops and slowly sits in a small clearing. A grassy meadow dotted with patches of lavender spreads out for about a mile around them, and a large, flat-topped boulder juts from the ground near where the giant sits. He sets Myrtle on top of it with surprising care, sliding her upper body onto it first before pinching her injured leg between two fingers and lowering it slowly.

 “You can scream if you want, I won’t kill you for that. This is going to hurt a lot.” He places a finger on either side of her broken ankle, hovering over the wound just slightly for the time being. He lifts her skirts up almost to her waist and she notices a very obvious blush spread across his pale cheeks as he places two fingers from his other hand on either side of her upper thigh, pinching her firmly but not painfully.

 She begins to question him, but her question is cut off before she can utter more than a quiet “what” as the air is wrenched from her lungs. He had quickly pulled her foot down by the ankle and snapped the bone back to the side, putting it back in its proper place. Her silence lasts only a moment before she lets out a blood-curdling screams that makes the giant flinch slightly. Myrtle faints, her body unable to process the pain from what the giant just did. 

 Victor’s initial instinct is to just put the woman out of her misery. He can’t provide actual medical attention and taking her to a hospital seems like a waste of time. Taking the time to bother helping her at all seems like a waste of time. He glares down at her as she passes out, trying to figure out exactly why he’s doing this. Besides, this was the human that Sebastian was hunting, not him. It didn’t seem very sportsmanlike of him to help his brother’s trophy rather than bring it to him.

 But something about her intrigued him. She was beautiful, yes, but he’d eaten plenty of beautiful humans before. Their beauty was fleeting, and mattered little in the grand scheme of things. Her long, thick, wavy golden hair tangled from the field she’d run through to avoid Sebastian was just golden enough to remind him of the horizon just past dawn; her hips were shapely and curved neatly into her small waist; her eyes–when she’d opened them–were the deepest blue he’d ever seen and set in a soft, heart-shaped face; her breasts were small and delicate and he actively restrained himself from just reaching out and touching them. She was equivalent to an insect to him–he shouldn’t have cared about her comfort, but something prevented him from risking causing her discomfort. She just looked too delicate. Too delicate for him.

 He produces a pocket knife from his back pocket, using it to cut off a small length of fabric from the hem of his shirt. He folds it into a narrow, somewhat thick strip of cloth and wraps it tight around her ankle. This elicits a small moan of pain from her, but she doesn’t awaken yet. Once her injury is decently bandaged, Victor sighs and lies down on his side, looking down at her body illuminated faintly by the full moon’s light overhead. She looked even more gorgeous as she rested. He scoffed and rolled onto his back, looking up at the stars. Why was he thinking these things about a human? He hadn’t met any, but surely there were giant women out there just as if not more beautiful than her?

 He closes his eyes and decides that he isn’t going to worry about her. He certainly doesn’t care about her. Come morning he’ll leave and she can find her way out of the woods on her own. But that wouldn’t really be very sporting of him either, would it? She wouldn’t be able to walk well on her own. He didn’t want to risk being seen by humans so he’d have to shrink down to their size once they reached the edge of the woods.

 He lets out a frustrated grunt and an exasperated sigh. He’d sleep on it. In the morning he’d decide what he wanted to do. But what about the woman though? What if she died in the night? It was summer in northern Florida, so it wasn’t particularly cool, but she was injured. He sits up slowly and unbuttons his shirt, removing it from his scarred body and revealing a toned chest and stomach. He drapes it over her, watching her squirm at first but then settle beneath the cream coloured linen still warm from his body.

 His gaze lingers for a moment before he lays back down and begins to drift off to sleep.

 Myrtle awakens when she feels a light weight lifted off of her. Her leg is sore and looking down at it, she can see noticeable swelling and bruising near the bandaged wound and also more minor bruising on her thigh where the giant held her.

 She sees his bare back for a moment before he slides his shirt on and she takes note of the scars dotting it and his bare arms. He’s faced away from her, sitting cross-legged in the dewy grass. She sits up slowly and maneuvers her way to the side of the boulder. It isn’t raised too far off the ground, but she knows she can’t put weight on her bad leg. She slides down slowly, good leg first, and manages to make it down without too much pain. Her whole body is stiff and wobbly and sore from a night spent resting on solid stone, but she pushes through it, using the boulder to support herself as she hobbles towards his side. She staggers, falling forward and barely managing to grab onto the fabric of his pants to keep herself upright.

 Myrtle shakily grasps the fabric and can feel that he’s watching her now, though she keeps her head turned down towards the ground. There’s a moment where he’s calm and still and Myrtle wonders what’s about to happen to her.

 “Need something, dear?” He asks quietly. He says it in a way that sounds almost sarcastic at first to Myrtle, but beneath that there seems to be some more genuine sort of emotion.

 “I… I just wanted to thank you for saving me,” she says, clinging to his pants more weakly now. Her grip fails and she begins to tumble down, but is stopped by a warm, somewhat rough surface. She braces her hands against it, hoisting herself back up weakly. It’s his hand.

 “Don’t thank me. You caught me in a good mood. Any other day I’d have killed you and brought you back to my brother.”

 Myrtle pauses a moment, trying to calm herself. She doesn’t want to be rude to him, so she ignores the fact that he just passively mentioned how he would normally kill her.

 “A-ah… the… blond gentleman?”

 She hears him chuckle sharply and briefly. “Yes. The blond gentleman. Now, can you climb onto my hand? I’m going to take you home.” 

 He lowers his hand slightly, down to just below her hips. She cautiously sits on his palm, realizing for a moment that she was being so dumb. He could still just take her to his brother. He could lift her up and eat her like a little scrap of meat. But even in her fear she knew that if he intended to do these things he could have at any point. And he wouldn’t need to ask her to climb onto his hand, he could just grab her with no regard for her physical well-being.

 He uses his free hand to tuck his shirt in and slide his suspenders back over his shoulders. He quickly straightens his hair up and sets his cap back on. Something about him still looks decidedly rugged and even somewhat disheveled despite him attempting to care for his appearance. This rogueish look doesn’t detract from his appearance though. If she wasn’t aware of how dangerous this man was, she would pray to her God and any others that would listen for him to court her. Her stare doesn’t go unnoticed by the giant. He looks down at her with a raised brow, trying desperately to look perturbed by her obvious interest in him, but a pink blush on his fair cheeks giving away exactly how mutual this interest was.

 “I’ll take you out of the woods then you can point me in the right direction to get you home,” he says bluntly, looking away and standing. 

 “Of course. Thank you, sir,” Myrtle says in a softer voice. Not shy, but distracted. She laughs melodically, grinning to herself. The giant gives her a confused, concerned look, thinking she surely must be insane.

 “Are you feeling well, dear?”

 Myrtle shakes her head. “Just thinking how my family will react when they see a giant carrying me home.”

 “They won’t,” he says pointedly.

 Myrtle frowns, confused, but the giant doesn’t expound on that statement when pressed by her.

 They travel quietly through the woods, the only sound that of his footsteps and the creaking of trees as he bent and even broke several as he maneuvered around them. All the animals were silent, either hiding or having vacated the area as he approached. 

 When they reached the treeline, Myrtle gave him directions to get her home. After receiving these directions, the giant sets her down gently on the ground. Before her eyes, almost instantaneously, he recedes in size rapidly until he stands well over six feet tall, but at a more human height. Myrtle’s eyes widen and her jaw drops, staring at the giant that now looked like nothing more than a perfectly normal man. His appearance was unchanged save for his height, but he looked uncomfortable.

 “I can’t stay like this long,” he says, “But I can get you home more easily this way.”

 Myrtle nods, understanding. “I suppose stomping around as big as you normally are isn’t very discrete.”

 He nods, but offers no other response. The man approaches her and scoops her into his arms, lifting her up with ease. His strength seems relative to his size, but he still has no difficulty picking up her 5’4“ frame and holding it in his arms as he begins to walk. Something about his change in size unsettles her. It takes her a moment to realize it, but the unsettling thing is that there could be other monsters among normal human society and no one would know the difference. He appears perfectly human despite being quite tall. Her father is 6 feet tall, but this man would stand at least half a foot over him if not more. 

 She catches herself staring up at his face as she contemplates this, and this doesn’t go unnoticed by him again. He furrows his brow and scowls slightly.

 “Quite rude of you to keep staring at me like that, ma’am.”

 “Forgive me,” she says hurriedly, body tensing up. Angering him strikes her as a deadly mistake, and the fear accompanying this idea sets in quickly.

 “I do,” he responds, voice soft and surprisingly kind. “I hope you’ll forgive me if I do the same.”

 Myrtle is taken aback. Her body relaxes in his arms.

 “I would,” she says as they draw nearer to her family’s farm, her father and brother running out when they see them approach. She sees her mother on the porch, sobbing into a handkerchief and falling to her knees.

 The man smiles down at her briefly before turning his attention to the men approaching him.


	2. Convalescence

Myrtle had expected the man to just head on his way, never to be seen again. This expectation filled her with worry and, oddly enough, sadness. Something about him just drew her to him, despite how potentially dangerous Myrtle knew he could be. This worry faded when, to her pleasure, her parents invited the man to stay for dinner once she healed properly and he promised he would. 

 Her mother–Daisy Pond, a tall, thin woman in her early 40’s with thick blond hair plaited in a long, neat braid–had grabbed him by the hand and asserted, politely but firmly, that he was going to come back for dinner and he didn’t argue with her. He regarded all of them with a small, curious smile, and Myrtle noticed his eye traveling back to glance at her from time to time.

 Her older brother entered the kitchen where they’d set Myrtle down in a wooden chair–the closest available–and looked over the group warily with his amber brown eyes and pushed his messy dirty blond hair back out of his face. He focused on the man, who’d introduced himself as Victor, with a particular wariness that read more openly as distrust than the glance he gave everyone else. 

 “I’m going into town to get a doctor,” he said plainly.

 “I’ll go with you,” Victor responded quickly. “I know the doctor. He owes me. I’ll consider his debts paid if he treats her. That might get him out here faster.”

 Myrtle’s brother, Irving, regarded Victor with the distrust in his expression only growing. He acquiesced though, but only with urging from his mother. They hurried from the house, Victor pausing to smile back at her. This simple action caused her to blush and shrink back in her seat slightly. It has hard for her to connect the person who carried her home and so openly showed what seemed to be affection for her with the giant monster who’d initially found her. Surely he wasn’t as much of a monster as he appeared though. He had gone out of his way to keep her safe, for reasons she couldn’t quite understand.

 Maybe she wasn’t thinking clearly yet. The pain from her ankle was still immense, but had dulled enough for her to keep relatively calm. Although, she wasn’t sure if the lack of pain was necessarily a good thing. Although her mother was talking to her, Myrtle felt herself growing dizzy and tired. Her body felt chilled, but also as if a wave of heat was flowing over her, starting at her head and spreading down through her torso and extremities. She didn’t fall unconscious, but when the nausea hit her she wish she had.

——————–

 Victor sat in the passenger seat of Myrtle’s father’s automobile, admiring it with a small smile. If staying so small wasn’t such a chore he’d love to buy one of these. In a similar vein, he looked over at the man sitting beside him. Entirely lean muscle and with a rather tall build, Irving Pond was an interesting sight for Victor to behold. 

 “Do they know,” he asked the younger man in a polite, but knowing, tone. He spoke in the tone of someone prepared to happily expose someone else’s secrets. This tone didn’t go unnoticed by Irving.

 “No,” he responded flatly. “I won’t tell them what you are if you keep your mouth shut about me.”

 Victor laughed softly. “If you tell them about me regardless of what I do I’ll kill them.”

 Irving fell silent and nearly considered stopping the car and beating the man beside him senseless. He considered this only for a moment, but the moment passed soon and he kept driving. He was trapped in a situation where he had to do what Victor wanted and he knew it. Victor knew it too and grinned.

 “I don’t want you near my sister,” Irving said flatly, eyes focused on the dirt road ahead.

 “I don’t think you’re in a position to be telling me what you want,” Victor responded, reaching over and patting Irving on the knee cordially. “Your sister needs my help. And I think you do too, in your own way. Aren’t you tired of hiding?”

 Irving considered this briefly. He had found out that he was capable of shifting his size four years ago when he was 19. It had been a painful thing at first, forcing himself to stay human sized, but a profound numbness had set in after a couple years when he’d gotten used to the pain. It would still overwhelm him at times though. There were still nights where he’d wake up in a cold sweat, the contents of his stomach forcing themselves back up as the agony of his body constantly being compressed down to a size it just wasn’t meant to be took over his senses. It was hard. The thought of his family seeing him towering over them was harder though. They’d surely see him as a monster–as they should. A being like him wasn’t something God ever intended to exist. This thought pervaded his psyche and weighed heavily on his mind daily. Despite this, the temptation of being free to exist at a size that didn’t cause him constant discomfort also presented itself as the forbidden fruit in his Eden of normalcy.

 However, he didn’t offer a further response as they pulled into the small town of Toad Springs and parked in front of the doctor’s office. The town was about an hour north of Ocala, and was quite small, but of a decent enough size that the surrounding rural area could get reliable access to groceries, medical services, and other necessities. 

 Victor hopped out of the automobile and walked confidently into the office, carrying himself like a man with a clear and defined purpose. Irving followed close behind, a notable unease in his step. 

 Victor paused briefly to turn to face Irving. “Let me know if you want my help. You don’t need to be afraid of yourself.”

 Staying this size was beginning to become painful for Victor though, and despite the certainty in his body language and movement, if one looked closely they’d see that he was tense and sweating slightly. It could be dismissed as being an effect of the humid air that permeated the entire state of Florida though, and would only seem slightly odd if someone stopped to look for long enough. Victor would need to leave as soon as he was able to, as he wasn’t confident in his ability to act like he wasn’t at the very least uncomfortable for the time being.

 Doctor Miller Morris was a portly man in his mid-fifties who wore a simple gray suit without a jacket, and was a well-respected man in the community. He was known for his kindness and well-intentioned but often inconvenient propensity for “adventure.” There were many times where someone from town would have to go rescue him from one of his adventures, which generally involved him heading out too deep into the swamp looking for “new remedies for old ailments.” The doctor laid eyes on Victor and shot up from his seat at a large wooden desk, and his body quivered as the one-eyed man approached him.

 “I’ve come to collect,” Victor said calmly, but with a palpable chill to his voice. The tone made Irving shudder briefly. “This gentleman’s sister has a broken bone and will need surgery. If you can manage that and she survives you can consider your debt repaid and I’ll leave you alone.”

 Dr. Morris slowly ceased his trembling and gulped audibly. “And your brother?” He asks, glancing from Irving to Victor. There’s judgement in his gaze, Irving notices. As if the doctor sees him as just as much of a monster as Victor just for associating with him. The notion makes Irving uneasy.

 Victor nods. “You won’t need to worry about him either. Unless she dies.”

 Victor slowly, deliberately, walks over to the doctor, looming over him even as a human. “If she dies,’ he continues, leaning in close, ”I will personally send him after you. Do you understand?“

 Irving steps forward, about to intervene, but stops when Dr. Morris nods and utters a weak, “Yes sir,” to the man intimidating him. 

 Victor takes a step back and grins, nodding. “Good. Glad that we understand each other. Grab what you’ll need and we’ll give you a ride back to the farm.”

 Irving watched, mildly surprised, at the speed with which Dr. Morris began to move. The large man practically ran around the office, filling a brown leather bag with numerous medical supplies, some of which Irving thought looked more akin to torture devices. Victor watched closely, arms crossed over his chest. He nodded approvingly at certain tonics and tools the doctor placed into his bag, but when he started packing his “experimental” medicines Victor stepped forward and grabbed his wrist tightly in his hand.

 “You won’t be using any of that on her,” he said coldly.

 Dr. Morris began whimpering out quiet, rushed “sorry”s, repeating the word several times until Victor released his hold on the man’s wrist.

 Victor smiled and stepped back, letting the doctor finish grabbing his things. He looked over at Irving with a small grin. He took obvious pleasure in making the other man squirm. He led the doctor out of his office, guiding him with a hand placed on the back of his neck. Irving smiled sympathetically at Dr. Morris, who responded with a wary frown. 

————

 Myrtle smiled weakly at her brother and Victor as they entered, the doctor following close behind. Her heart dropped when she caught sight of his bag, overflowing with various medical instruments. She nearly fainted preemptively seeing him produce a bottle plainly marked CHLOROFORM from his bag.

 Victor and Irving both moved towards her, Irving stopping as Victor smoothly pushed past him and scooped her up into his arms.

 “Should we carry her to a bed,” he asked softly. Myrtle thought he almost sounded strained, but wasn’t sure why. 

 The doctor nodded quickly, and Myrtle thought he looked particularly anxious–which she felt didn’t bode well for her. Victor took note of her worry and smiled down at her in his arms, winking.

 “Doctor Morris here is going to take excellent care of you. I’ve made sure of that,” he said reassuringly to her. 

 Myrtle nodded and relaxed slightly as he began to carry her upstairs to her bedroom. He placed her on the bed and gently brushed her hair out of her eyes, resting his hand briefly against her forehead. Myrtle saw an emotion briefly pass over his face, but couldn’t immediately identify it. It seemed affectionate almost, as if this monster cared for her. But how much of a monster could he really be if he showed such concern for her? This was the last thought that crossed her mind before the doctor applied the anesthetic and she felt her consciousness slip away.

————————-

 When Myrtle awoke from the surgery the only person in the room with her was her father. Bill Pond was a quiet man. He didn’t often speak his mind, and didn’t often let on to his true feelings about things unless it was necessary. His appearance seemed to reflect his nature. His face almost always bore a placid expression, somewhere between a completely neutral expression and a kind smile. His thick brows sat above eyes the colour of the red clay from his native Alabama, and his graying light brown hair was messily swept back off his forehead. He appeared to be half asleep in the chair beside her bed, but was roused as she quietly groaned as she awoke.

 Her father reached a hand over to grip hers, his rough palm encompassing her small slender hand completely. 

 “Hey darlin’,” he said softly, his small grin spreading wider.

 “Papa,” Myrtle murmured weakly. Her ankle throbbed painfully. She couldn’t see it past the splint and bandages, but she could feel the swelling. The fact that her foot was still attached to her was astounding.

 “Where’s Victor,” she asked quietly, voice hoarse from sleep.

 “He went back home after Dr. Morris finished your surgery. He didn’t look like he was feelin’ too good, but I can respect him for toughin’ it out to make sure you were alright.” Her father’s tone was one of slight admiration. She hadn’t heard him speak like that since Irving had handled a harvest entirely on his own while her father was ill.

 She smiled softly and nodded, blushing. Her father chuckled at her expression.

 “He seems like a good fella,” he said, patting her hand lightly before releasing it and sitting back in his chair. “Think he’s a bachelor too. Seems like he comes from money,” he added with a wink.

 “Papa, I just had surgery and you’re trying to marry me off?” Myrtle asked with a weak, sarcastic laugh. “I’m not in the right mind to think about courting someone I just met."

 He shrugs playfully, “If you say so, I think now’s the best time to do it before he realizes how odd you are.”

 She laughed more enthusiastically now and leaned back into her pillow, sighing and closing her eyes. She couldn’t wait until she had convalesced. Hopefully she would see the man who’d saved her once more then.

 Irving sat on the edge of the creek, letting his bare feet soak in the cool water. The moon hung low on the horizon, the glow from the set sun casting a golden hue on it. It was calm out. Calm enough to think. He needed to make a decision tonight, and soon. The booming footsteps were approaching nearer and nearer to his position by the creek in the center of the meadow.

 He stood slowly and let out a long, low sigh. Then he closed his eyes and felt the creek all but disappear beneath him as he grew. The footsteps had ceased when he opened his eyes to view two giants–Victor and his blond brother Sebastian. They grinned at him, Victor warmly and Sebastian curiously, and proceeded to lead him away from the meadow and towards a nearby settlement.


	3. The Gathering Storm

 The weeks following Myrtle’s recovery were rough on her. It had taken roughly three months for her to be able to walk without pain, though she’d been trying to put weight on the ankle long before that point, much to her family and the doctor’s dismay. The doctor seemed almost nervous, she thought. It was sweet that he was so concerned for her, but she felt it was unnecessary for him to behave as if his life depended on her recovery. She’d noticed, unfortunately, that she wobbled softly with each step. Even after it had completely healed, according to the doctor anyway, she walked with a slight limp. There was still some mild pain that accompanied each step, and she noticed that her foot–unless she intentionally positioned it some other way–rested at an angle turned somewhat inward towards her other foot. This wasn’t of any concern to her though. As long as she was still able to walk, she was thankful.

 She arose from bed early one morning, just before dawn, and walked across her bedroom towards her window. Crickets still chirped and the sun’s first rays had yet to even touch the horizon. She took a deep breath, moving slowly and deliberately. She clutched her linen, floor length nightgown and pulled it up above her ankles so she could watch her feet as she walked. She often rose early or stayed up late past when her family had gone to sleep to just practice walking by pacing the length of her room. She felt her stomach clench up in knots at the thought of her family seeing her as feeble. She needed to walk confidently, at least, if she couldn’t completely hide her limp. So far it seemed like she couldn’t hide her disability, but she could at least minimize it with some effort.

 As Myrtle approached the window she stopped. The crickets had ceased their chirping and the night air was still and quiet. The silence was so abrupt and jarring that it gave her pause almost immediately. She gazed out through the dewy window, taking several small, shuffling steps closer to it. She saw something far off on the horizon, in the direction of the nearest farm to theirs. It was just around 10 miles off. The Addisons–Patrick, Doris, and their older son Philip–lived there and raised a few heads of cattle. 

 Myrtle frowned, pushing her long blonde locks out of her face as she tried to discern what was moving on the horizon. Her lungs, against her own volition, drew in a sharp breath and her eyes widened as she realized what she was seeing. Four looming shapes stood around the farm. Their forms were obscured by darkness, mist, and distance, but they were definitely at least humanoid in form apart from their massive size. 

 She staggered back, holding a hand over her mouth as she choked down a scream. Instead of the shriek her body instinctively wanted her to release, she let out a frightened whimper. She had to warn her family. They had to get away. Trembling, she moved quickly out of her room and across the hall to her brother Irving’s room. As she threw open the door, she nearly screamed again, once more only barely stifling it. His bed was empty. She checked the bathroom, the kitchen, and every other room save for their parents’ room. He wasn’t in the house.

 Panicking, and completely abandoning her plan to wake up her parents and warn them of the nearby danger, she ran from the house. Her gait was uneven and she did stagger often, but she pushed herself forward with what little speed she could muster. She searched the barn, the tool shed, and the immediate area around the farm. Irving was nowhere in sight, and her father’s automobile was still there. She breathed rapidly and fearfully, looking around with wide, frightened eyes. She began to feel tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she took off running away from the property, barefoot and still only in her nightgown, looking for her brother. She ran at least a mile off her family’s property and into the woods before she realized that she was exhausted. The soles of her feet stung and she was certain they were bleeding, but she didn’t bother checking. She staggered forward and began crying softly, propping herself up limply against a nearby tree. Surely Irving must have seen the figures on the horizon as well, and had left the farm to try to run there in time to save the Addisons. That was the only conclusion Myrtle could come to.

 The smell of blood hung heavy in the air, and Myrtle didn’t think she’d smelled it earlier. Maybe she was just now noticing it or maybe it was drawing closer. Dread set in quickly as the smell permeated the pre-dawn air, the mist growing heavier around her. She lowered herself down, hearing booming footsteps drawing nearer. She shuddered weakly, hands covering her mouth to muffle her frightened whimpers. The thunderous footsteps suddenly stopped. She squeezed her eyes shut, knowing that the giant must be nearby and was pausing because he knew she was there. She wasn’t sure how he knew of her presence, but surely he must. Why else would he stop so suddenly? 

 She heard two men speaking then. Two normal sized men. She recognized their voices distinctly, and shakily rose to her battered feet as they drew nearer. She stepped out from behind the tree and turned to face her brother and Victor. The two men stopped immediately where they stood when they saw her, and she had to do the same. The sight before her filled her with so much fear–but also relief.

 There was blood smeared across Irving’s mouth, and down his bare chest as well. Victor had less on him, most of it concentrated on his hands and splattered across his lower legs and boots. He only had a few droplets going down the center of his shirt.

 “Myrtle,” Irving said slowly, holding his hands up slightly as he approached her. She ran to him before he could say anything else, wrapping her arms around him. She let out a weak, frightened sob, ignoring the mostly dried blood on him.

 “We have to get home,” she said quickly, voice quivering, “There were giants at the Addisons’ farm, they could still be here. I swear I just heard one walking, I–”

 “Myrtle. It’s alright.” She turned her head quickly, looking over at Victor as she released Irving from her embrace. “We were just there,” he added.

 She thought for a moment. “O-oh,” she said quietly, furrowing her brow and frowning as she began to mull that statement over. “Were you trying to save them?” She asked, tear-brimmed eyes turning up to look into his one, cold blue eye.

 He didn’t respond immediately, but slowly nodded. “Yes,” he finally said, voice exhaling with a low sigh. “We weren’t able to get there in time.”

 She nodded after a moment, sniffling quietly. Irving frowned a bit. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” he said. “I’m not really equipped to handle giants I guess.”

 There was something in his tone that put Myrtle on edge. It sounded insincere and far too casual and calm for someone who had likely just witnessed a massacre. He’d never sounded like this before, at least for as long as Myrtle could remember. She shook off the bad feeling his tone gave her and looked between him and Victor.

 “You need to go home and get cleaned up before ma and pa get up. You’ll terrify them if they see you looking like that,” she said, looking her brother up and down with a small frown. She looked over at Victor and blushed softly.

 “Thank you,” she said softly. “For trying.”

 He smiled a small, half-smile at her. “Of course.”

 Irving looked between the two of them with a faint frown. “You need to go home and get dressed too, Myrtle. Come on, you’re indecent.” 

 She blushed bright red and looked away from Victor to glare back at Irving. 

 “He’s coming over for dinner tonight, you can talk to him later,” he added. Myrtle raised her brows and looked back up at Victor for confirmation.

 He grinned more now and nodded. “See you then,” he said softly, before turning to walk back in the direction they’d come from. Myrtle watched him leave, a chill starting to set in as a breeze picked up in the cool dawn air. She crossed her arms tight over her chest, trying to ward off this sudden chill and slowly turned to walk home with Irving.

 The shock of seeing her brother and a man she knew was a monster covered in blood was beginning to wane and she began to realize how absolutely terrifying this entire situation was. The Addisons were dead and her brother had witnessed it. He didn’t seem as upset as she would have been in that situation. Irving had never been one to hide his feelings on anything, so why was he hiding the fear and anger he had to be feeling now?

 “Are you alright,” she asked him softly, picking up the pace to match his longer strides as they walked home.

 “Yeah,” he snapped out. “Fine. Just… Let’s not talk about this. Don’t tell ma or pa.”

 “I wouldn’t,” she said, nearly cutting him off. “They wouldn’t believe us anyway. If they did they’d never let us leave the house again.”

 He nodded, pursing his lips into a tight frown. He didn’t respond beyond that though. Myrtle watched him closely for a moment. She knew her brother well, and she knew when he wasn’t telling her everything. To be fair, he rarely hid anything from her. He was a good, honest man. She brushed it off though. Maybe he was just afraid. She was sure whatever he had seen had been terrifying. He walked faster now, and she just couldn’t keep up with her bad ankle and her aching feet. She lagged behind him as they drew nearer to the house, the sun just beginning to peek out over the horizon. They both needed to wash up before their parents awoke.

 “Irving,” she hissed out, trying to keep as quiet as she could. He paused and turned his head back to face her and she thought she saw tears in his eyes. She couldn’t be sure from the distance she was at though.

 “You wash up first. Just hurry.” He nodded back at her when she said that, and turned his head forward again and half-ran onto the property, rushing quietly into the house.

 She moved slowly into the house, trying to limit the sound from her limping steps. Her parents would wake up soon and if they caught her out and about–feet bloody and covered in grass and dirt–they’d start asking questions. She hurried up to her bedroom again, hearing the door to the bathroom close quietly just as she began to climb the stairs. She frowned softly, looking at the closed door for a moment before turning and heading into her room. 

 She walked towards the window once more, and still saw two looming figures near the Addisons’ farm. In the slowly growing light of the rising sun, she could make out their appearances more clearly. One was a huge, muscular man with shoulder-length brown hair and a short beard. He stood beside a figure that made Myrtle’s heart stop when she recognized it. A blond man with his hair in a ponytail stood beside him, wiping his hands on his shirt and leaving trails of blood that were noticeable even from this distance. It was the giant who’d been chasing her those few months ago. She staggered back and collapsed to the wooden floor, a cotton rug by her bed just barely muffling the sound of her fall. She rose quickly, hearing movement from her parents room downstairs, and slid into bed. She made sure to tuck her feet in, and rolled onto her side, facing towards the window. The men were beginning to walk away from the Addisons’, and away from Myrtle’s family’s farm as well, heading further off into the wilderness. She held her breath and silently prayed they wouldn’t turn and head towards the farm.

 “Myrtle?” The sound of her mother’s voice and of her bedroom door opening made her jump. She gasped and then slowly exhaled when she realized it was just her mother. “What was that noise just a second ago? Are you alright?”

 She slowly rolled over to face her mother. “Nothing ma. Just had a bad dream and ended up rolling out of bed.” She smiled, trying to reassure the worried woman standing in her doorway.

 A moment later her mother jumped slightly as the nearby bathroom door opens and Irving stepped out, clean and dressed in a fresh set of work clothes.

 He grinned toothily at her and laughed a bit at the brief, frightened expression on his mothers face. “I invited a friend over for dinner ma. Victor. You remember Victor?” He said once they’d both calmed down.

 Daisy Pond smiled at her son, letting out a calm laugh. “Oh?” Her smile widened slowly as she recalled who he was talking about, “Oh! Victor! Oh yes, I was hoping one of you would invite him over for me.” She gave Irving an approving pat on the shoulder and smiled back at Myrtle. “Get up and get dressed Myrtle. I’ll need you to help me cook and clean today.”

 Myrtle nodded, hopping out of bed once her mother had left the room. She picked out an indigo dress and a simple brown apron and laid out a corset on her bed to wear later in the evening. She didn’t intend to cinch herself up while she worked, but wanted to look like a lovely young lady for the guest they were expecting that evening. She hurried to the bathroom and began to bathe, smiling softly to herself as she contemplated how the evening would unfold.

–--------------–

 “So what is it you’re doing tonight?” Sebastian asked, mostly disinterested. It didn’t involve him, whatever it was. Just Victor and Irving. He didn’t care too much, but he was somewhat curious about what his brother was planning on doing. 

 “Just going to have dinner with Irving’s family. They’ve been wondering what he’s been doing lately, I’m sure.” Victor tied a burgundy tie around his neck as he spoke. His clothing tonight was that tie paired with a dark brown and burgundy striped vest and a matching dark brown suit and off-white shirt. He looked down over himself, straightening his vest and smiling softly. He looked handsome, he knew. Different, and a little showy maybe, but handsome. He switched out his normal, plain eyepatch for a silk one. He was maybe a little too dressed up for dinner with a family of farmers, but he still liked to look nice for rare occasions like this where he got to sit down for a normal meal.

 Sebastian lazily picked a bone from between his teeth, looking it over for a moment. It was human, but he was sure he’d find a few cow ones in there as well if he kept cleaning between his teeth. He tossed it aside, letting it drop down into the dirt below. The trees creaked softly around them as a slight wind began to pick up and he looked up at the canopy around them. Sitting down he was nearly halfway as tall as the trees in the part of the woods they’d been staying in. They hadn’t built a home here yet, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. It was rural, yes, but populated enough that the humans could give them trouble if they weren’t careful. Allowing a giant that was close to humans to join their group was trouble, and Sebastian knew it even though it seemed like neither Byrne nor Victor did. 

 Byrne he could explain away. Maybe he was only being friendly with Irving to deceive him at some point down the line, or to use him for something. Sebastian couldn’t be sure, but either explanation made more sense than any he could think of for why Victor was so close to Irving. Sebastian, personally, loathed the newcomer. He’d already gotten into a fight with him, and had walked away from it with a black eye. He’d knocked out a couple of Irving’s teeth and nearly broken the other man’s ribs as revenge for it. The only solace Sebastian found in this was that Irving wasn’t accustomed to his true size yet. He wasn’t anywhere near as strong as Sebastian despite being taller and appearing much more muscular than him.

 “Maybe I’ll stop by later and give him a little surprise,” he said with a smirk. His smirk quickly shifted into a mildly surprised expression when his brother crouched down in front of him and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

 Victor yanked Sebastian forward, looking him in the eye. “You aren’t going to touch his family. Do you understand? Especially while I’m there, you idiot.” He smirked a bit and let Sebastian go, relaxing a bit.

 “Fine,” Sebastian said, letting out a barely noticeable sigh of relief. “What about Byrne though?”

 “He seems to like Irving,” Victor said with a shrug as he stood back up and straightened his clothes once more. “He knows what we’re doing, I don’t think he’d do anything to bother us.”

 “If you say so,” Sebastian said with a small grin. “Maybe me and him will pretend we’re human for the evening too and go to town. Maybe I’ll meet a sweet human to bring home.”

 Victor laughed, brushing off the statement. There was no way that Sebastian knew that Myrtle was alive, let alone Irving’s sister, so he saw no need to worry about it. “Be sure to introduce me to them before you have your fun with them,” he said, grinning toothily at his brother.

 “Have a good night, whatever you decide to do,” he adds, turning to leave. 

 “Have fun,” another, rougher voice adds. 

 Victor glanced back over his shoulder at the British giant who’d just approached their camp, his arms crossed over his broad chest. Byrne smirked softly, and Victor returned a small smile to him. 

 “You too,” he said, voice softer. He was somewhat suspicious, but he had no reason not to trust Byrne. Maybe not Sebastian, but he definitely trusted Byrne. Regardless, he hoped they’d keep each other occupied for the evening, whether that be with alcohol or the company of local humans–in one way or another.

–--------------–

 Myrtle set the table, taking a deep breath as she paused to adjust her corset. She didn’t often bother wearing one. She had a relatively thin waist and thought the popular wasp-like figure many women struggled to obtain looked outdated and frankly just silly. But, for the time being, she’d wear one just to try to look more lady-like. She wasn’t sure how much Victor would care whether she wore one or not, but he seemed like a proper gentleman apart from the fact that he was a giant monster. She figured he’d have standards for how a lady should dress.

 It was around five in the afternoon and the summer sun still beat down strong on the land outside. They’d opened the windows in the house to let a cool breeze in and flush out the heat from the burning oven. A thin sheen of sweat still dotted Myrtle’s forehead. Her father had run to town to buy a bottle of wine and he still hadn’t come back yet, but that was to be expected. It wasn’t too often that Toad Springs got anything other than beer or grain alcohol at the general store.

 Victor arrived before her father did. He knocked at the door, which was promptly answered by Myrtle. She blushed faintly and smiled up at him. 

 “Nice to see you, Myrtle,” he said, bowing his head politely.

 She stepped aside, letting him in. “Nice to see you too, sir,” she responded–staying polite, as her mother had suggested she do.

 He grinned at her formality, but didn’t comment on it. He stepped past the threshold, removing his jacket. The Florida heat didn’t seem to bother him too much, as Myrtle didn’t notice any sweat marking his nice clothing–nicer than she’d generally seen people in the area wearing. He began to hang his jacket on the coat rack by the door, but Myrtle rapidly–nervously–reached out and took it and hung it up for him. He laughed softly. 

 He took her hand and leaned slightly, carrying it the rest of the way up to his mouth to give it a delicate kiss. “You don’t need to be so nervous, dear,” he whispered to her. He released her hand just as her mother stepped out of the kitchen.

 “Oh! How good to see you again Victor,” she called out warmly as she dusted her hands off on her apron and approached him.

 She took his hands in hers and looked him over, smiling calmly. “Well, normally I’d give you a hug but I don’t want to dust up your fancy clothes,” she added with a small laugh. 

 Victor laughed it off and reached his arms around her, giving her a friendly hug. “You’re fine, ma’am.”

 Myrtle smiled watching the exchange. He seemed so normal interacting with her mother. So friendly. She nearly forgot what he was. She turned away at the sound of Irving’s voice from the stairs.

 “Victor. Hi,” he said with a faint smile. He looked tired, Myrtle noticed. She wondered if he’d slept at all last night. He hadn’t had time to rest during the day, since he was helping out on the farm. Concern caused her smile to fade slowly.

 “Irving,” Victor responded, nodding politely to him.

 “Well,” Mrs. Pond interjected, “I’m going to go get washed up, y’all go ahead and sit and chat until Mr. Pond gets home, now.”

–-------------–

 Bill Pond had heard about the murders–no, the massacre–just as he paid for the bottle of wine. 

 “My, but did you hear about the Addisons?” The local gossip, Sarah Welch, said to her friend Martha Claire. The two older women, just a few years Bill’s senior, stood in a corner of the store, admiring some new calico fabrics that the store’s owner had just ordered a few days ago.

 “Why, yes I did Sarah. I heard that their cows were stolen too. And the whole family… Gone! Nothing left but blood.”

 “Dear, that’s so morbid! Don’t talk about that here, I was just wondering if you’d heard,” Sarah responded, fanning herself nervously.

 “Hello ma’ams,” Bill said, walking over curiously, momentarily leaving his purchase on the front counter. “What is it you’re talking about, if you don’t mind my asking.”

 “Oh you haven’t heard? I figured you’d hear first, since they’re your neighbors and all, Bill,” Martha said, sharing a scandalous glance with Sarah. “The Addisons were all murdered.”

 “Or kidnapped,” Sarah hastily added, waggling a thin finger in front of Martha’s nose. “Nobody knows for sure, but someone definitely left a lot of blood there. Their whole herd is gone too. Nothing left but blood,” she said, voice trailing off towards the end of the macabre description. She shuddered.

 Bill frowned deeply, concern etched in his face. He thanked the women for their time, grabbed his wine, and left the store. He hoped the sheriff wouldn’t mind if he paid the Addisons’ a quick visit.

–-------------------–

 Myrtle’s father still wasn’t back from the store. It had been much too long, and she and her mother were notably worried. Daisy stood with the front door open, gazing out into the hazy 8 P.M. gloom. Victor and Irving spoke with each other, but it had all seemed so innocuous to Myrtle–nearly cryptic, she thought. Regardless, neither man seemed concerned about Mr. Pond’s absence.

 Eventually Daisy closed the door and stepped back inside, smiling sadly at her children and her guest. “Well. It seems like Mr. Pond is taking his time to come home, doesn’t it?” She laughed nervously. “I’m sure he just got caught up talking to Mr. Addison at the store.” 

 Irving’s eyes widened and he nodded slightly. “Maybe so,” he responded.

 “Well. In any case,” she continued, clapping her hands together. “You must be starving,” she said to the three of them. “Let’s go ahead and start without him.”

 Dinner passed uneventfully. Mrs. Pond made polite, friendly conversation with Victor. He seemed distracted. Myrtle made eye contact with him nervously, then casting the same nervous glance at her brother. Neither man addressed the elephant in the room. There was a loud boom outside and Myrtle jumped, dropping her fork to the floor. She clutched the table with one hand and placed the other over her heart. It beat fast and hard in her chest, and she soon had to release the table and instead move that hand to her forehead, propping herself up with an elbow on the table as she leaned forward slightly. 

 “It’s just thunder, Myrtle, what’s gotten into you,” Irving asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice. Myrtle internally recoiled at the tone of his voice. It was harsher than she was used to. They’d had spats before, being siblings, but he seemed dismissive of her very real fear of the giants that they now both knew stalked the countryside. 

 “I don’t like storms much either,” Victor said, smiling softly and knowingly at Myrtle as he leaned down to grab her fork for her.

 “Thank you,” she mumbled, sitting up straight once more. “I don’t take you as one to be afraid of much anything,” she said with a small, nervous chuckle.

 His grin widened. “Now, I never said I was afraid of them, don’t talk such nonsense,” he said playfully.

 Mrs. Pond didn’t engage in the pleasantries like she might have in any other situation. Her head was turned towards the open window. “We’d better close the windows,” she remarked, voice flat and nearly emotionless. 

 The sound of her mother’s voice made Myrtle’s smile drop instantly. She nodded and dutifully stood with her mother, quickly walking around the house closing the open windows. She stopped at the large window near the front door and held a hand over her mouth fearfully, stopping and staggering back a couple steps.

 “Victor,” she said, voice wavering.

 He stood quickly and strode from the dining room to the entryway. He stood behind Myrtle, a large hand placed gently on her shoulder as he peered out the window, through the darkness and the lightly falling rain. A flash of lightning illuminated a looming figure near the property, holding something in each of his hands.

 “Shit,” he said under his breath. “Take your mother to the storm cellar,” he whispered to her, voice quick and demanding.

 “Ma,” she called out, rushing back to the kitchen.

 Victor motioned for Irving to follow him. “We’ll get the animals,” he said quickly as they headed out into the storm.


	4. Shame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (featuring @tootallboys [on twitter's] oc Byrne!!)

            When Sebastian saw the human investigating the farm they’d destroyed the night before he’d noticed something familiar about him.  Not in appearance, really, but in his mannerisms.  The way he walked, the tone of his voice.  It seemed too much like Irving.  Sebastian had almost killed him on the spot for it.  Instead, he grew from his human height, hidden just past the tree line, then lunged out just as they were leaving.

            The sheriff and his deputy didn’t pose much of a threat.  They managed to fire one round each at him from their service revolvers.  It stung, but didn’t stop him.  He crushed them beneath the heel of his boot before they could try anything else.  The human he was actually interested in was smart.  He ran and hid.  There wasn’t much left to use as cover though.  Sebastian found him almost immediately behind one of the remaining piles of rubble from the farmhouse.  This time the human wasn’t able to run before Sebastian’s fingers scooped him up. 

            He held him gently.  He didn’t clench him in his fist, he didn’t dangle him—not for lack of wanting to.  He held him on his palm and smiled a soft smile.  When the human noticed his expression Sebastian thought he looked even more frightened than before.

            “Your name,” he said, “What’s your name,” he asked the man on his palm.

            And when the man spoke his name Sebastian’s eyes lit up with recognition, and his fingers closed in around him.

 

* * *

 

 

The cool rain was a relief from the humid evening air.  It steamed around the ground from the heat still trapped from the day’s oppressive sun, sending mist swirling around Sebastian’s feet as he walked.  Sebastian had been waiting for the storm to come all day.  He’d been around long enough to recognize the electricity in the air for what it was, and was almost excited for it.  He wanted something chaotic to happen.  He wanted something destructive to happen.

            “Damn that feels good,” he said with a grin cast down at the human man clenched in his fist.

            The human peered up silently through the curled fingers above him, blinking through the falling rain and the darkness to see the face of the monster who’d captured him. 

            Sebastian smirked as he drew near Irving’s home.  Surely they would have heard him coming.  Or maybe his footsteps blending with the roar of the wind and the crash of thunder.  Either way, he was satisfied.  Then he saw a face in one of the windows.  A far too familiar face.  His smirk slowly shifted into a cold glare.

            “So that’s what you’ve been up to,” he mumbled, opening his clenched fingers.  He lowered himself into a crouch then dangled the man by his leg for a moment, seeing recognition cross the face of the young woman in the window just as Victor appeared behind her.  Then he dropped the man headfirst into the ground.

 

* * *

 

 

            Victor grew almost immediately upon leaving the farmhouse.  He didn’t stop to help Myrtle’s father, instead stepping over the small body in the mud to kick his foot hard into his still crouching brother’s chest.  Sebastian had a grin on his face that didn’t leave, even as he fell backwards into the mud. 

            “What the _fuck_ are you doing,” Victor hissed out, grabbing Sebastian by his collar and yanking him up hard. 

            Sebastian shrugged.  “What I always do,” he said coolly, grabbing Victor by the wrists and pulling his hands away from his shirt.  “What the fuck are _you_ doing.”

            Victor glared then turned back to face Irving.  Irving had grown and hadn’t bothered to help his father.  Sebastian seemed almost as surprised as Victor that the young giant hadn’t even checked to see if his father was alive. 

            The howl of the wind escalated and in the distance Victor saw the clouds dropping steadily lower from the dark sky.

            “Both of you shrink down right now and get into the storm cellar,” he said, voice icy and serious. 

Sebastian usually wouldn’t comply, but his brother’s tone, for once, was enough to get him to move.  Besides.  Surely the little woman he’d lost would be waiting for him in there.  Irving followed, leaving his father behind. 

Victor hesitated.  Normally he’d leave the, likely dead, human behind without a second thought.  Now he felt guilty for it.  He looked between the storm, the figures of his brother and Irving walking back to the house, and the body in the mud once more.  Then he shrunk down, pulled the still shorter man up into his arms, and ran into the house and into the cellar with him in tow.

 

* * *

 

 

            Myrtle huddled close to her mother in the golden light of a kerosene lamp.  It wasn’t much, and did nothing to keep the cooler air of the cellar at bay, but it was better than nothing.  When the cellar door above opened and two figures came in, she immediately ran into the arms of the taller one.  The light behind them from the kitchen had obscured their features, and she hadn’t waited to confirm who was who, but she knew Victor was taller than Irving. 

            The hands resting on her back and holding her close felt different.  Softer.  And the quiet laugh that arose from the soaked chest in front of her wasn’t Victor’s.

            She looked up into the grinning face of the man who’d hunted her down.  The man who’d killed the Addisons.  The man who’d likely killed her father.

            “I wasn’t expecting you to be so happy to see me,” he said with a warm laugh.  She squirmed away from him, and he let her go easily. 

            “Myrtle what has gotten into you,” her mother snapped at her. 

            Myrtle’s mother took the blanket off her own shoulders and draped it around Sebastian.

            “It ain’t much, but you go sit over by that lamp and warm up a bit,” she said, in a voice kind enough to make Sebastian’s smile fade for a moment.  He hadn’t been expecting that.  He reminds himself that if she knew what he was she wouldn’t be quite as kind, and he smiles again.

            “Thank you ma’am,” he murmurs, huddling down where Myrtle had been sitting before.  He pats the seat beside him for Myrtle, winking at her.  She steps further away from him.

            When Victor walked in, moments after, descending the stairs carefully with her father in his arms, Myrtle began to sob.  Whether with relief, fear, or sorrow, she couldn’t be sure, but whatever emotion she felt was too overwhelming to contain.  Victor didn’t come to comfort her.  He laid her father out on the rug.  He seemed to be avoiding even looking at Sebastian. 

            “Is Byrne somewhere safe,” he said abruptly, resting his fingers against her father’s throat.

            Sebastian shrugs.  “Probably.  He’s smart, you don’t need to worry about him.”

            Victor frowned, but nodded.

            “He’s alive,” he said, removing his hand from her father’s neck. 

            Myrtle let out a shaky sob, rushing across the room and into Victor’s arms.  Her mother hadn’t spoken or moved at all since Victor had brought her father down, but now she walked slowly over to him and knelt by him, gripping his hand tight in hers.  Myrtle looked back at Sebastian.  She wanted to see remorse.  She wanted to see him begging for forgiveness.  She didn’t see that.  Instead, she saw a man who looked absolutely content.  In Irving, who’d sat beside him, she saw nothing.  And that frightened her even more

 

 

* * *

 

 

            When the storm had passed it was nearly midnight.  Victor had brought Myrtle’s father upstairs to her parents’ bedroom.  He hadn’t woken up yet.  Myrtle’s mother invited Victor and Sebastian to stay the night, but they insisted that they didn’t want to impose on her.  She seemed anxious as she watched them leave.  Myrtle didn’t want to ask what specifically was wrong.  Myrtle didn’t want to speak.  She wanted to hide.  Sebastian knew where she lived.  She wouldn’t feel safe anymore knowing that.  She didn’t say goodbye to Victor.  When she turned and walked up to her bedroom, she felt his gaze follow her before he left. 

She didn’t care if she had upset him right now.  His brother had hurt her father.  That had been enough to remind her that as nice as Victor was, he was a monster.  If his brother was capable of doing such horrible things then surely he was too, and surely she shouldn’t trust him as much as she had.

She sat in the dark in her room, huddled up on her bed, for nearly an hour before she fell asleep.  She slept sitting up, head resting on her knees pulled in close to her chest.  Her sleep wasn’t restful.  She surely would have had nightmares if her sleep had been deep enough to cause her to dream.  She awoke still a few hours before dawn to the sound of tapping at her window. 

The sound startled her.  She let out a sharp gasp and jumped back, legs snapping out in front of her as if to thrust a kick at an invisible assailant.  It took another tap at the window to grab her attention and remind her of what had awoken her.

Myrtle turned quickly to look out the window into the overcast night.  She saw a massive figure, its fingertip lightly pressed against the window as it tapped it, and the first thought that came to mind was that it was Sebastian.  She nearly screamed, but quickly she realized that if it were Sebastian, that he would likely just destroy the house with her in it.  He wouldn’t try to lure her out.  She slid out of bed and walked over cautiously, unlatching it and leaning out.

“Myrtle,” Victor said softly as he pulled her out gently—but abruptly—onto his hand.  Despite how sudden the motion was, it erased all thoughts Myrtle had had about no longer trusting Victor—about seeing him for the monster he was.

Despite how quietly he spoke, the vibrations from his voice shook the house.  If her mother wasn’t awake still, she would be soon.  Myrtle shakily held a finger to her lips, trying to shush Victor.  She didn’t want to frighten her mother more.  “Can we go somewhere else?”

Victor seemed to have to strain to hear her while she spoke softly, but apparently understood.  He stood up, having been crouching to tap at her window, and walked away from the farm and off into the woods. 

            He was silent while he walked.  Myrtle was too.  She shuddered lightly in the cool night air.  The storm had left the normally humid night cool and breezy.  She hadn’t undressed from earlier, so she was still in the dress she’d worn during dinner, and it did more to keep her warm than her nightgown would have, but it still wasn’t quite enough to keep her comfortable. 

            Eventually Victor reached a clearing in the woods, the same one they’d rested in the first time they’d met, Myrtle realized, and sat down with a low sigh. 

            “We need to talk,” he said plainly.  There was little emotion in his voice.  Myrtle thought he sounded upset.

            “I-I’m sorry,” she whimpered out, nearly bursting out in tears again. 

            “Wait, what?” Victor frowned and lifted Myrtle up towards his face.  “Why are you sorry?  What’s wrong?”

            Myrtle didn’t know why.  She felt awful.  She hadn’t felt this awful ever before, and couldn’t explain what specific kind of awful she was feeling.  When Victor sighed and brought her in close to his chest she felt better.  Not completely, but enough to comfort her for the moment. 

            “You’re just afraid,” he said softly.  “Right?  It’s okay.  It’s good that you are.  I’d be more worried if you weren’t afraid of me.” 

            Myrtle’s heart ached.  Was she afraid of _him_?  Or just what he was and what he could do?  Passing her fear off as entirely being about Sebastian would be disingenuous and she knew it.  It was more than just that.  But she didn’t think she was afraid of Victor himself.

            “Not you,” she mumbled out, leaning against him. 

            Victor nodded silently.  She didn’t think he believed her.  She didn’t know how to explain what she felt to herself, let alone to him, but despite whatever she was afraid of she knew it wasn’t him.  He’d saved her from the danger Sebastian had introduced into her life.  She wouldn’t be alive without Victor.  She _needed_ Victor. 

            “Victor?”

            “Hm?” The soft rumble of his voice reverberated through her.

            “We needed to talk?”

            He’d been silent.  He hadn’t spoken a word this whole time despite him saying they needed to talk.  The expression on his face as he looked down at her made Myrtle’s heart ache more.  Something was hurting him.

            “Myrtle I care about you.  A lot.  More than someone like me should.”

            “Someone like you,” Myrtle asked, gazing up at him.  “Victor I… I care about you too.  But what do you mean?  A giant?  I don’t mind you being… like this.”

            Victor paused for a long moment before setting Myrtle down on his lap.  “It’s a long story.”

            “I figured that much,” Myrtle interjects quickly.

            “Longer than you’d think,” Victor says with a solemn smile.  He gazes out through the trees and up at the sky above the clearing.  “Now that I think about it, too long to tell in one night.  I hadn’t thought I’d be doing this…”

            “Tomorrow,” Myrtle says, resting a hand on his.  “I’d like to see you tomorrow.  You can tell me then.”

            Victor thinks, then nods, gently wrapping his fingers around Myrtle. “I should take you home.  Sorry for taking you out here for nothing.”

            “This was something,” Myrtle responds quietly.  “We can figure out what it was later.”

 

* * *

 

 

            “Do you think he’ll listen to us?” Byrne asked Sebastian as they reclined in the cave they’d been staying in.  The rain had all but stopped, and was little more than a drizzle outside.

            Sebastian shrugged.  “Maybe.  I think he will eventually if he doesn’t right now.  Probably just needs some convincing.”

            Sebastian wasn’t too worried.  His brother had flirted with humans before, he’d kept them around before.  It wasn’t uncommon.  This felt different.  Sebastian wouldn’t normally be so upset.  Maybe because she had been _his_ first.  He hadn’t wanted her to live past whatever he’d been planning to do to her.  He wanted to feel her body break in his hands or between his teeth.  And now, because of Victor, he wouldn’t get that.  His brother had never lied to him quite like this before: he’d told him he hadn’t been able to find her that day, when clearly he had.  On top of lying to him, Sebastian knew that Victor had been seeing the human woman more often than he’d let on.

            When he and Victor had returned to the cave, Sebastian had explained exactly what was wrong with Victor to Byrne.  The other giant had been confused.  He didn’t let on that he was, but Sebastian felt like he must be.  Byrne hadn’t known Victor before humans had betrayed them.  How Victor was now remined Sebastian of how he’d been back before he’d learned the very painful lesson that humans couldn’t be trusted, and that they weren’t worth trusting.

            Victor had assured them both that he didn’t care about her.  He claimed to just be toying with her, leading her on so he could hurt her later.  Sebastian doubted him.  He’d lied to him already about saving her, what would stop Victor from lying to him now?  When Byrne’s suggestion came up, it became evident that Victor wasn’t being honest.

            “Why don’t you just go ahead and kill her then?  You can always find another one.  Or let Sebastian do it since he found her in the first place.”  Byrne’s expression was cold.  It seemed like he was torn between wanting to believe Victor and knowing that he couldn’t.  Victor noticed.

            The expression on Sebastian’s brother’s face was hollow, resigned.  He knew he’d have to get rid of her if he wanted to stay close to Byrne.  Sebastian grinned.  He didn’t necessarily want to see his brother like this, but he knew it would be better in the long run for him to get it over with and move on.  People like them weren’t meant to see humans as anything more than playthings or food, and keeping one around would only hurt him in the long run.  She’d see them all for the monsters they were and would try to run away.  Sebastian knew that would destroy Victor. 

            Victor eventually nodded.  “I’ll do it.”  His voice was even and calm.  Maybe he’d accepted what he’d have to do.  Sebastian laughed.

            “Really?  Damn.  I was hoping you’d make me do it.  Well have fun.  Let us know how it goes.” 

            Victor had left shortly after, heading back towards the farm.  Sebastian didn’t know if he would really do it.  Now, leaning back against the cool stone wall of the cave, he still was unsure.  But Sebastian still wasn’t too worried.  Victor cared about him, and he cared about Byrne, and he wouldn’t give up centuries spent with them for a couple months spent with a human.  Sebastian was as sure of this as he could be as he began to doze off by the light of their small fire.


End file.
